


you're blowing my mind (like a painkiller)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Series: MacDalton and Ailments [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, past dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: “Where’s Mac?” Jack asked the second Bozer was in the war room, making him freeze and look at Jack like a deer caught in headlights. Jack could tell that Bozer was trying to make up some kind of excuse, so he got up from his chair and walked over to him. “Don’t even think of lying to me, Bozer.”Matty and Riley exchanged a look, both recognizing Jack’s intense tone as the one he usually reserved for misbehaving targets.Bozer took a deep breath and set his shoulders. “So I went to pick Mac up, and he was, uh… not feeling well? Which I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I didn’t come up with a plan B.”(Or the one where Mac gets migraines and managed to keep it from Jack... until now.)





	you're blowing my mind (like a painkiller)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KatieComma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/gifts).

> Hi guys! [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/works) and I are back with yet another thinly veiled excuse for whump and porn! This one is also a gift for the lovely [KatieComma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma), because she gave me an epic prompt for a birthday fic but I knew I wouldn't get to it in time, so that one will be a Christmas present and THIS ONE will have to suffice as a (late) birthday gift. Love you, girl! <3 **Just so you know, there is past dubious consent mentioned here between Mac and an ex-boyfriend, but it's minor.** As always, this is a collab but I put it together so any mistakes are my own! Enjoy and don't forget to tell us what you think!
> 
> (Title is from "Painkiller" by Halestorm.)

Jack Dalton didn’t consider himself to be a worrier. Was he a little overprotective of the people he cared about? Sure. Did he care a little too much about one particular blond genius? Maybe. But he also knew Mac was a grown man, and tried not to be offended when he’d declined Jack’s offer of a ride to work that morning, opting to have Bozer pick him up instead. It was odd, but nothing to be worried about because Jack didn’t worry. Except for right now, because Bozer was twenty minutes late, and when he finally showed up Mac was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Mac?” Jack asked the second Bozer was in the war room, making him freeze and look at Jack like a deer caught in headlights. Jack could tell that Bozer was trying to make up some kind of excuse, so he got up from his chair and walked over to him. “Don’t even think of lying to me, Bozer.”

Matty and Riley exchanged a look, both recognizing Jack’s intense tone as the one he usually reserved for misbehaving targets.

Bozer took a deep breath and set his shoulders. “So I went to pick Mac up, and he was, uh… not feeling well? Which I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I didn’t come up with a plan B.”

“Not feeling well how?” Jack narrowed his eyes, staring at Bozer like he was trying to look into his soul. He was aware he was probably overreacting, but something wasn’t right—Mac wasn’t okay and he clearly tried to hide it from Jack for some reason. And his brain was already coming up with worst case scenarios, because it couldn’t be something as simple as a cold. Mac always told him about whatever was wrong with him, no matter how small, but this? Not wanting Jack to come get him, asking Bozer not to tell him what was going on? This was different. He took another step in Bozer’s direction. “Bozer? Tell me.”

Bozer stepped back and hit the wall. “Damn it, Jack,” he said, his voice coming out like a squeak. “He specifically asked me not to tell you what was going on, okay? All I can say is that this hasn’t happened since he was at MIT.” He held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. “If you wanna find out, go over there yourself. This is probably hard to believe, but I’m actually a lot more afraid of Mac and his brain than I am of you and your…” He waved vaguely at Jack’s whole body.

Jack was very close to freaking out. He didn’t know how to feel about Mac not wanting him to find out about whatever was going on—it hurt, but Jack forced himself to swallow it down, his feelings weren’t important right now. He had the decency to glance at Matty and by the time she nodded her approval he was halfway out of the war room.

~***~

The drive from the Phoenix to Mac’s place normally took about an hour and a half, but LA traffic being surprisingly forgiving combined with Jack’s foot being heavy on the gas pedal meant he got to Mac’s place in about forty minutes. Despite the fact that Bozer had kind of told him what was happening, Jack still found himself examining the outside of the house for threats. When he approached the front door he realized all of the curtains and blinds were closed, which was a little strange… unless Mac hadn’t gotten out of bed. He tried the door since it was usually unlocked anyway, but surprisingly it didn’t budge.

Since there was a chance Mac might be sleeping, Jack used his key—he’d done it a million times before and was sure Mac wouldn’t care. The house was dark and silent when he stepped inside, and a bad feeling spread through Jack’s body like a poison. He moved through the house without making any noise, avoiding the creaky floorboards by memory. He checked the couch, but Mac wasn’t there—had to be in his room, so Jack kept creeping down the hall and eventually reached the door to the master bedroom, which was half-closed.

He nudged it open carefully, and Mac’s bedroom was easily the darkest of them all. Thick blackout curtains covered the windows, and in the bed, curled up in the fetal position under the blankets, was Mac. There was an unopened bottle of water and some granola bars on the nightstand—probably courtesy of Bozer—along with an extra-large bottle of Tylenol and a couple of orange prescription bottles. Mac faced away from the door, and he didn’t move or say anything when Jack came up, but he wasn’t asleep either—his breathing wasn’t right for it. Since he wasn’t asleep, Jack figured it would be a good idea to announce his presence and not give Mac a heart attack while doing it.

Slowly, he approached the bed and said quietly, “Hey, Mac?”

Mac’s entire body flinched, followed by a slow and careful exhale, so Jack walked around the bed until he could see him from the front, and he looked terrible—pale, with lines of pain creasing his forehead and around his mouth. He didn’t move, save to let out that harsh breath and crack open one eye, just the tiniest bit.

“Jack?” he whispered, and his voice sounded absolutely wrecked, like he’d been gargling glass shards—or maybe vomiting. Each word he spoke sounded like he had to think about it before it came out, and his hands were clenched into fists around the blanket on top of him. “What are you doing here?”

Jack’s heart broke when he saw how awful Mac looked and he needed to know immediately what he could do to make it better. “Checking up on you,” he replied, keeping his tone low while sitting down on the edge of the bed. His hand itched to brush the hair out of Mac’s eyes, but he ignored what would definitely not be a platonic gesture. “Bozer mentioned you weren’t feeling well, so…”

That got him something that vaguely resembled a chuckle. “More like you backed him into a corner until he told you something, so then you came over here?” He didn’t seem upset that Jack was there, and both of Mac’s eyes were open now but they were dark with discomfort. Since he was curled up his knees were touching Jack’s backside, and he didn’t move away. He studied Jack’s expression for a moment and then sighed. “I’m guessing you’re not gonna be happy until I tell you what’s going on?

“You don’t have to tell me if don’t want to.” Jack talked softly, because there was something about the dark room and the way Mac was lying that meant he didn’t dare to speak any louder. “But you kinda have me worried, hoss.”

Mac winced. “I’m sorry,” he said, and of course Mac would apologize for someone else worrying about him. “I… get migraines.” One hand released its blanket twist to push his knuckles into his forehead. The movement was slow and deliberate and looked like it hurt. “It started when I was a teenager. They’re… extremely painful. I don’t get them as often now as I used to, but… I think yesterday’s mission had something to do with it.” He paused to breathe, staring at the opposite wall. “Sorry, nauseous. Um, yeah, having my arms over my head and looking up for three hours trying to dismantle that bomb didn’t do me any favors. Neither did the ten hour flight there and back… or not eating.”

Jack closed his eyes. He knew their last mission was hard on Mac, it was exhausting for everybody and afterward Mac had looked like a ghost. Jack had asked him repeatedly if he was okay, but goddammit, he should’ve done more, because the idea of Mac going through this on his own made something painful twist in Jack’s chest and he couldn’t help but wonder how often it had happened since they met. “Damn it, Mac. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Unable to stop himself, Jack reached out to gently brush the hair out of Mac’s eyes.

Mac blinked in surprise at the touch but didn’t move away—in fact, it seemed to Jack that he leaned into a little bit. “I didn’t want you to worry. Well, any more than you already do. And since they can happen pretty much any time, I didn’t want you to think… that you couldn’t rely on me.” He sighed again, and looked so small and tired that all Jack wanted to do was hug him. “The first thing that happens is I start losing my vision. It gets, like… dim, at the edges? And then I’m blind for a while, maybe an hour or so? But I’m usually in too much pain to care.”

“Mac, my trust in you is absolute,” Jack said, his voice quiet but firm, his fingers still stroking through Mac’s hair. “The fact that you get migraines isn’t gonna change that. How long… how long has this been happening today?”

“What time did you drop me off last night? Like ten o’clock?” When Jack nodded, Mac continued, “I took a shower and my vision started to go… so probably since… midnight? I gave in and took a Vicodin around three but it barely touched it. Mostly I’ve just been trying not to throw up or gouge my eyes out.” He winced. “Sorry, that’s dramatic, but it feels like somebody’s been shoving an ice pick into my brain for ages.”

“You should’ve called me,” Jack whispered, before his brain could control his mouth. That wasn’t what Mac needed to hear right now—what he needed was a friend. “What can I do to help?”

“Maybe just…” Mac gathered up whatever energy he had and shuffled over in the bed, making enough room for Jack to sit against the headboard instead of perching on the edge of the mattress. “Sit with me for a while? I think it’s finally starting to go away… unless you have to go back to work, I mean.” He paused, like he was debating whether he should say anything else, before admitting in a tiny voice, “I wanted to call you, but…”

“But?” Jack prompted, taking off his jacket and moving to sit in the space Mac made for him. There was no way in hell he was leaving, and he hoped Matty realized he wasn’t coming back to work.

Mac let out a shuddering sigh and closed his eyes again… before he rested his head gingerly on Jack’s thigh, like he wasn’t sure it was something he was allowed to do. “Sometimes when I get a migraine I sort of… lose my brain-to-mouth filter? Like right now, if I wasn’t in so much pain I wouldn’t be telling you about my brain-to-mouth filter. And I was afraid if I called and you came over… I wouldn’t be able to control what I said.”

It was clear that if Mac wasn’t in so much pain he wouldn’t be saying anything, but Jack didn’t pry. He didn’t want to take advantage of Mac’s vulnerable state. “I wouldn’t hold anything you say against you or judge you, you know that. But we don’t have to talk if you’re worried about saying something you don’t want to.”

“But I love talking to you,” Mac said, and it shouldn’t have made Jack feel warm all over but it did. “I love spending time with you, whether we’re working or just sitting around doing nothing, and I always want you around when you aren’t here. You’re one of the only people in the world who understands how my brain works, and sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.” Long fingers hooked over Jack’s kneecap through his jeans, thumb massaging light circles into the joint. “You actually care about me, because you’re here even though you don’t have to be. And… it might not be the way I _want _you to care about me, but I’m grateful for it anyway.”

Jack’s hand froze in Mac’s hair and he stared down at him with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Mac didn’t seem to notice, snuggling deeper into Jack’s thigh while Jack wondered if he was having a heart attack—there was a lot to unpack in what Mac just said, and his words bounced around in Jack’s mind. “I… there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Mac,” he started slowly. “But… what do you mean this isn’t how you want me to care about you?”

Mac snorted and then made a sound that indicated he regretted it. “I mean I’m in love with you, but there’s no way you’d feel the same way so it was never worth pursuing.” His eyes were closed, long lashes casting shadows against the tops of his cheeks. “I’m just glad I get to have you as a friend… even if it kind of kills me every time I see you go out with somebody else.”

Jack stilled completely, not even daring to breathe for a moment. He was pretty sure he either misheard or he was dreaming because there was no way Mac just said that. Jack had been in love with the kid for years and was convinced nothing could happen between them… but now his entire would was turned upside down. He knew Mac wasn’t delirious and the Vicodin was long out of his system… so did he mean what he just said?

Swallowing harshly, Jack tried to get his shit together to say something, but it wasn’t really working: “Mac, I’m—”

“It’s okay, Jack,” Mac said, his voice soft and filled with understanding… but there’s a sad, resigned edge to it. He patted Jack’s knee consolingly. “You don’t have to explain yourself, or apologize. You deserve to be happy, and I’m sure there’s a woman—or a man, who knows—out there that will make you much happier than I ever could.” And with each word Mac seemed to get smaller somehow, like he was trying his best to disappear. “It was… nice, though, to finally say it out loud. I promise you’ll never have to hear it again.”

“No, no, no,” Jack started before he even realized his lips were moving. “I don’t want anyone else, Mac. Just you.” He hoped that since Mac wasn’t looking at him he could at least hear the sincerity in his voice. “I want to hear it again, Mac. As often as you’ll let me.”

Mac was quiet for a long moment. “Did I take more than one Vicodin?” he wondered aloud, and he twisted around so he was facing Jack, propped up on his forearms. His brow was furrowed, and while he still looked like he was in pain, it wasn’t nearly as bad as when Jack first arrived. “Are you a hallucination?” His hand squeezed Jack’s knee, evidently to test that theory. “Because if you’re not… then that means… oh, God.” Jack didn’t know it was possible for him to get any paler, but count on Mac to be an overachiever at all times. “Jack, I… wait, what did you say?”

“I said that you’re the only one I want, Mac,” Jack replied, his hand finding its way back into Mac’s hair. “You’re the only one who matters.” That hand slid down to cup Mac’s jaw, and Mac stared at him with those beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t need anything else to make me happy. Or anyone.”

Mac swallowed hard, and slowly, hesitantly, he shuffled closer until he was mostly upright and leaning into Jack’s side, careful not to dislodge the hand on his face. “You… really?” he asked, and there was such wonder in his voice that Jack was suddenly filled with the urge to strangle anyone who hadn’t appreciated Mac the way they should’ve. One of his hands touched Jack’s chest, resting flat over his heart. “But you never… why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Jack countered, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile. “Even if I”d know you were into guys… I was sure you wouldn’t appreciate an old man like me pining after you. Talk about creepy. You deserve someone as amazing as you are. As smart and as good as you are, Mac.” And that was the truth—as much as he loved Mac, Jack was very much aware that he was damaged goods.

Mac frowned, his hand sliding up from Jack’s chest to cup his cheek. “What? For one thing you’re not _that _old, and for another, even if you were—who cares? You’re… _you_, and if that means you’re fifteen years older than me, then that’s what it means. And I don’t want somebody who’s like me—believe me, I tried that once, it didn’t work out.” He looked at Jack with this… earnest, adoring expression he’d never seen before. “I want you. The rest of that stuff doesn’t matter.”

Jack stared at Mac, disbelief written all over his face. He was glad he could feel Mac's hand on his face and that he was touching Mac as well, otherwise he would have trouble believing this wasn’t just a dream—or a nightmare, because waking up after something like this would’ve been cruel. His eyes dropped to Mac's lips for a second, and he’d love nothing more than to kiss him… but Mac was still in pain, Jack could see it in the lines on his face and in his eyes.

“You... I can't believe this,” Jack said, awe coloring his voice. “You could have anyone in the world.”

“So could you,” Mac countered, and there was a little humor to it. “Do you have any idea how hot you are? And you’re smart, and funny, and ridiculously good at your job—which is saving my ass, more often than not.”

It was only now that they were so close together and the blankets had slipped down that Jack noticed what Mac was wearing: a t-shirt, one that was too big for him, branded with IRON MAIDEN across the chest in letters so big they could be seen from space. It was Jack’s shirt, one he thought he’d lost doing laundry years ago… and that was _all_ Mac was wearing. He forced himself to breathe, keeping his eyes on Mac’s face and not letting them wander any lower.

“You make me sound like such a catch,” Jack said, trying for teasing. He also moved his hand from Mac’s jaw to fiddle with the collar of the shirt. “I thought I lost this.”

Mac’s breathing went shallow, but not in a bad way—not from the way his eyes flickered down to Jack’s lips and back up again. His pupils dilated as Jack watched, black slowly blooming inside of blue. “And you did kind of lose it? You did some laundry here and it got stuck in the dryer and then I… forgot to give it back.”

“Mhmm.” Jack’s hand trailed down Mac’s stupidly well-toned arm until his fingers reached the end of the sleeve. “You never forget to do anything, man.”

Their faces were closer than before, and Jack was pretty sure he was reading all of Mac’s signals correctly. Unable to hold back anymore, Jack leaned in and pressed their lips together, his fingers wrapping around Mac’s bicep. He made a little sound in the back of his throat and kissed back, his hand soft and warm on Jack’s face, the other one coming up to curl around the wrist of the hand Jack had clutching his arm. The kiss was slow and tentative, both of them figuring out how the other liked to do things, and Jack was practically dizzy with how good it felt.

He broke the kiss after a moment, closing his eyes so he could get his shit together. That simple touch of their lips was enough to make Jack breathless, his heart pounding like he just ran a mile. He kept Mac close, his free hand sliding around his waist. The way Jack was sitting with Mac leaning into his side, it was almost like Mac was in his lap, but Jack was careful not to slide his hand too low—he had a feeling Mac might’ve forgotten the damn t-shirt was all he was wearing.

“Why were you so convinced that there was somebody out there who’d make me happier than you ever could?” The question was out of Jack’s mouth before he could stop it, and while he hadn’t planned on bringing this up now, there was no point in trying to take it back.

Mac blinked at him. “I… I guess I just thought… I can be a lot to deal with, you know? I’m always asking questions or blowing things up, I don’t always understand social stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders a little, the shirt riding up even further. “Plus, I mean… I’m a skinny nerd. I didn’t think that was your type.”

And Jack noticed how... rehearsed it all sounded, as if Mac was just repeating someone else's words after learning them by heart. Unfortunately, it also sounded like he fully believed it. “You’re not that skinny.” Jack’s hand rubbed Mac’s arm before sliding it to his well-toned chest, and Jack had to resist the temptation to run his hand over Mac’s abs. “Mac, are you… who told you that?”

“A lot of people,” Mac murmured. “A guy I dated in college. Nikki, too.”

His long fingers were scratching through the short hair on the back of Jack’s head, and Jack had to breathe in and out a few times to stop the anger that threatened to spread through his body. “They were all wrong, Mac,” Jack said, his voice a little harder than intended. “All those things are what make you _you_, Mac. They don’t make you ‘a lot to deal with’—” here Jack used air quotes “—they make you the most fascinating, extraordinary person I’ve ever met.” He didn’t want to sound like one of the psychopaths they often chased who considered Mac special for being able to survive them, so he added, “And I don’t mean that in a creepy way.”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Jack, I don’t think you’re creepy. It’s… sweet, that you think that.” He pressed his lips to Jack’s jaw, and it was ridiculous that a simple touch like that was enough to make Jack tingle all over. Mac’s lips travelled up from his jaw to Jack’s lips, where he kissed him and added with a smile, “And you can put your hand on my ass if you want. I can tell you keep trying to be polite, but it’s really not working.”

Jack froze for a second before letting out a breathless laugh and kissed Mac again, the hand on his back slowly sliding down until it settled on Mac’s ass. This one was more heated than the first, with Mac pressing himself closer and tightening his arms around Jack’s neck. Hesitantly, Jack nipped on Mac’s bottom lip and was rewarded with a soft moan when Jack’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Jack couldn’t suppress the groan that rumbled out of him when Mac threw a leg across both of Jack’s and settled properly in his lap, hands moving to squeeze at Jack’s shoulders.

Both of Jack’s arms went around Mac’s waist, one hand firm on his ass and the other between his shoulder blades. There was a part of Jack that couldn’t believe this was happening, that Mac was in his lap and making pleased sounds while Jack’s tongue explored his mouth. It was everything Jack had ever dreamed of and after a moment he broke the kiss, moving his lips to Mac’s jaw before sliding lower to suck on the birthmark on his throat.

“Jack,” Mac gasped out, and his hands were sneaky little things, running down Jack’s chest before his fingers curled under the hem of Jack’s shirt. He toyed with the fabric like he wanted to pull it off but hesitated. “Is… God, Jack, is this too fast?”

Jack took his hand off Mac’s ass, placing it on his back instead and leaning away to look him in the eye—he needed his brain to work for a moment, not his dick. “Maybe? How’s your head?” He shifted one hand to tug Mac’s hair behind his ear. “We can slow down if you want, I don’t mind.”

Mac’s eyes searched Jack’s face for a moment, and whatever he saw made him smile. He seemed to be coming back to himself slowly, since he was no longer squinting or showing other outward signs of pain. “I love you.”

Hearing those three words made Jack’s breath stutter and his arms tightened around Mac. “I love you too,” he said, his heart fluttering as he kissed the corner of Mac’s mouth. He admired that beautiful, easy smile on Mac’s face… but when he looked closer, there was something else in Mac’s eyes, his hands gripping Jack’s shoulders a bit harder than they should’ve been. “Everything okay?”

“I just… thought of something,” Mac replied haltingly, and when Jack raised his eyebrows in a silent question, he sighed. “Remember the guy I told you about earlier, the one I dated in college? He, uh… didn’t always like to stop when I asked.”

It took a second for the meaning of those words to register in Jack’s brain, but when they did, he saw red. “_What_?” he growled, barely contained fury lacing his voice. “Care to elaborate? Because there’s no way you’re sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’.”

“I… might be saying what you think I’m saying.” Mac winced a little. “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds—sometimes I wouldn’t be super into what we were doing but we’d do it anyway? I wonder if that’s why I was always getting migraines back then…”

Jack’s fingers dug into Mac’s back as he tried to stop himself from hitting something. He breathed through his nose, trying to calm himself down. “And what did he do about those?”

Mac bit his lower lip. “Not much? If I knew I was getting one I’d just lock myself in my dorm all day. One time I wasn’t quick enough and he wanted me to blow him, but my head felt like it was gonna explode and I threw up all over his dick.”

Jack swore then and there that he’d find this reptile and throw him into a Phoenix black site—how awful did you have to be to try and have sex with someone while they were in pain? A sick feeling spread through his body and he asked, “Mac… if he didn’t like to stop, did you… did he ever…?” He couldn’t get the rest of the words out of his throat, his body paralyzed with anger and terror over what the answer might be.

“No, he never—that was why we broke up, actually. He tried to…” Mac trailed off, his thumbs stroking absently at the sides of Jack’s neck. “But I broke his nose. Eventually he got kicked out of MIT for setting a fire in a professor’s office.”

‘_That_’s what he got kicked out for?” Jack growled, forcing himself to loosen up his hands because he realized his grip might’ve been hurting Mac. “You’re gonna give me a name and I’ll take care of the rest.” Rubbing his hands over Mac’s back, he softened his voice as he added, “And we don’t have to do anything today.”

Mac elected to ignore the part about telling Jack the guy’s name. “What if I _want _to do something today?” he inquired, leaning in to press a kiss to Jack’s cheek, then his jaw, then the side of his neck. “Because I feel better, and if you’re up for it… I think we’ve probably waited long enough. About eight years or so.”

Jack’s control started to slip as soon as Mac’s lips touched his skin, but he forced his brain to cooperate for a moment longer. “Are you sure? Because I’m okay with waiting—I’m not just goin’ to get angry or walk away because you don’t want to sleep with me.”

Mac pulled back to look Jack in the eye. “I know that,” he murmured, pressing a languid kiss to Jack’s mouth. His hands wandered, feeling out the muscles in Jack’s back before travelling lower to tease at the hem of his shirt again. “And here’s the thing: I really, _really_ want to sleep with you.”

Jack saw sincerity and lust in Mac’s eyes, and he trusted him, so in response to his declaration Jack shifted to pull his t-shirt off over his head before crashing their lips together. He pulled Mac closer and slid both of his hands underneath Mac’s ass while Mac’s arms wrapped around his neck. He sighed against Jack’s lips, a contented little sound that shouldn’t have driven Jack up the wall, and yet everything Mac did seemed to turn him on more.

Long, clever fingers ran over the smooth skin and scars that decorated Jack’s body, and it wasn’t long before Mac took off his own shirt… which left him very naked, sitting in Jack’s lap like a goddamn unwrapped present. He ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face and blinked those pretty blue eyes, and Jack’s heart just about stopped at the sight of him.

“You are so beautiful,” Jack breathed out, before wrapping his arm around Mac’s waist and turning to lay him out on the mattress.

After giving him one short kiss Jack pulled back, kneeling between Mac’s legs and taking off his own belt, jeans, and underwear. Mac hooked one of those long legs around Jack’s waist as soon as he was naked, his hands coming up to frame Jack’s face and pull him down for a kiss, both of them groaning when their cocks slid together for the first time. It was warm and intimate, and sort of felt like they were in their own little bubble, wrapped up in each other in Mac’s dark bedroom. Jack broke the kiss, trailing his lips down Mac’s neck to his collarbone where he started sucking a bruise into his skin. Mac’s hands moved from Jack’s face so his arms could circle Jack’s back, and he ran them down to Jack’s ass. He moaned and arched a little when Jack bit him, and he used his grip on Jack’s butt to pull him in tighter.

“What… what do you want to do?” Mac asked, a shuddering sigh leaving his lips when Jack’s tongue circled his nipple. “I’m—oh—” he cut off momentarily when Jack bit him again, near the scar on his shoulder “—up for anything.”

Jack groaned, his hips rolling down involuntarily. “Are you tryin’ to kill me?” he muttered, biting him again because he could and Mac seemed to enjoy it. “If I told you I wanted to fuck you… what would you say to that?”

Mac let out a slightly hysterical laugh that tapered into a moan when Jack’s mouth moved lower, teeth scraping across his ribs. “I’d say that’s the best idea you’ve ever had,” he replied, knocking half the shit off his nightstand in his haste to retrieve the lube and condoms in the drawer. He ripped the plastic seal off the lube with his teeth before he passed it to Jack and spreading his legs to give Jack more room to work.

Pulling away, Jack opened the bottle and poured some lube on his fingers, and he was about to slide his hand lower when he paused. “If you… if you’re not feeling okay, you’re gonna tell me, right?”

Mac brought his hand up to touch Jack’s cheek. “Of course I will… but I think I’ll be fine.”

After kissing the inside of Mac’s wrist, Jack leaned in to kiss his lips, his hand finding its way down to press his finger against Mac’s entrance, rubbing teasingly before pushing it inside. Mac gasped into Jack’s mouth, his hands moving to grip Jack’s shoulders. Jack broke the kiss to mouth at Mac’s neck and Mac gasped again when Jack moved his finger back and forth, nipping at his skin at the same time. It didn’t take long for Jack to add a second finger while sucking a bruise over Mac’s pulse.

Mac’s fingers dug into Jack’s muscles, his nails biting his skin, and he tried to fuck down against Jack’s fingers when they grazed his prostate. “Oh, God, Jack, this feels… you’re amazing.”

“Mhmm, I’m pretty sure that’s you, darlin’,” Jack murmurs, slipping a third finger inside and making Mac arch off the mattress, his lips parting in a breathless gasp.

Mac yanked him in for a kiss, messy and uncoordinated but so, so passionate—and really, what else would a kiss from Mac in this situation be like? After all, he was the most uncoordinated and passionate person Jack knew.

When they parted, it was for Mac to stare at Jack with wide eyes and say in a trembling, wrecked voice, “I’m ready, Jack. Please… please fuck me.”

Removing his fingers, Jack kissed Mac again. “Condoms?” he asked against Mac’s lips, reaching for the box on the bed. He knew he was clean, but he wasn’t an asshole that didn’t care about his partner’s opinion—and he’d met his fair share of those, all of whom deserved to have their teeth knocked out and their dicks cut off.

Mac’s fingers curled around his wrist, pulling Jack’s hand back to his body, his elbow smacking the box on to the floor. “I’m clean,” he assured, his other leg hooking around Jack’s waist to join the first one. And if Jack looked up “temptation” in the dictionary, there’d be a picture of Mac there looking exactly like he did in that moment. “Just want you.”

Jack leaned down to kiss him before reaching for the lube and coating his cock with it. Trying to remember to breathe, he lined himself up and slowly started pushing in, groaning at how tight and hot Mac was, clenching around him in the best way. Mac was panting underneath him, his eyes wide and slightly clouded.

Once he bottomed out he went still, kissing the corner of Mac’s mouth. “Still okay?”

“Uh-huh.” The noise Mac made was less words and more an appreciative hum, all four of his lanky limbs wrapping around Jack and squeezing him tight, an octopus in human clothes. He shut his eyes for a moment before opening them again and rolling his hips experimentally. “You can move.”

And Jack did, cautiously at first, his thrusts shallow and tentative. It wasn’t until Mac whined impatiently and his thighs tightened against Jack’s hips that Jack dared to be bolder, movements getting deep and fast. Once Jack set his pace he leaned down to crash their lips together in a dirty, messy kiss before moving his mouth to Mac’s bruised neck and panting against his skin.

Little high-pitched breathless noises escaped Mac’s lips every time Jack thrusted inside him, and he cried out when Jack hit his prostate. “_Jack_, I… harder, please.”

Jack let out a growl and slid his arms under Mac’s back, hugging him closer and picking up the pace, his thrusts getting rough. Mac clung to Jack tightly, getting louder with each slam of Jack’s hips, crying out in pleasure when Jack hit his prostate on every second or third thrust. The fact that Jack was the person making Mac scream like that was almost enough to make Jack come, but he was determine to make Mac fall over the edge first. Judging from the sounds he was making he was almost there, so Jack continued to pound into him, keeping up his brutal pace.

All it took was one last particularly hard, deep thrust for Mac to start coming with a shout. He spurted up his own abs, painting his skin white as his inner muscles clamped down on Jack’s cock. His whole body shook in Jack’s hold like he was falling apart, and his limbs turned to jelly, slipping off Jack’s body… mostly because Mac passed out. Jack didn’t notice right away because he had his face pressed into Mac’s neck and he was busy coming as well, groaning loudly as he filled Mac up with his come, hips moving erratically before he collapsed on top of Mac.

Jack was completely out of breath as he pressed a kiss to Mac’s throat… and a few seconds later he realized Mac wasn’t moving. In fact, his body was limp in Jack’s arms, so he pushed himself up, his eyes widening when he realized Mac was unconscious. He pulled one of his hands out from under Mac and ran it through Mac’s hair before resting it on his cheek. “Mac? Come on, baby, open your eyes.”

Mac stirred gradually, pressing his face into Jack’s touch before his eyes fluttered open. He made a sound in the back of his throat and smiled when he saw Jack hovering over him. “Hi,” he whispered, eyebrows drawing down at the worry in Jack’s expression. “Did… did I faint?”

“Yeah, you did,” Jack said, breathing out in relief and raking his fingers through Mac’s hair again. “Way to give a fella a heart attack. Although I guess it should make me feel good about myself since I kinda literally fucked your brains out.”

Mac’s smile widened and he rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” He wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, tugging him down for a slow, gentle kiss. “I really love you, you know that? And not just because I blacked out after we had sex.”

“I really love you too,” Jack said, grinning against his mouth. “I’m still not sure why somebody as amazing as you would wanna be with someone like me, since I sure as hell don’t deserve you… but I promise I’ll do my best not to let you down, darlin’.”

“Never gonna happen,” Mac said, pressing their foreheads together. “And you deserve everything.”


End file.
